I gotta fold the laundry

We interrupt this program...

If this is fat....

...then I'm a fucking water buffalo...

...stoned maybe; but SOOOO not fat...

========
P.S - Shame on you, Glamour magazine. Why oh why did you have to graft America Ferrera's beautiful face onto Mr. Thrifty?

Life Soundtrack

A meme:

If Your Life Had a Soundtrack What Would the Music Be?

How this works:
1. Open your music library.
2. Set to shuffle and press play.
3. For every event, list what song is playing.
4. Next event, shuffle to the next song.
5. Don't lie - go with what comes up, just like life.

Opening Credits:
Blessed - Elton John

Waking Up:
I Put a Spell On You - Creedence Clearwater Revival

First Day at School:
Sweet Hitch-Hiker - Creedence

Falling in Love:
The Long Way Home - Norah Jones

Breaking Up:
White Room - Cream

Prom:
Crocodile Rock - Elton John

Life's Okay:
Freedom - Jim Brickman

Mental Breakdown:
Broken Hearted Me - Anne Murray

Driving:
Where You Lead - Carole King

Flashback:
Starbright - Jim Brickman

Getting Back Together:
Margaritaville - Jimmy Buffet

Wedding:
Something in the Way She Moves - James Taylor

Birth of Child:
Beautiful Boy - Celine Dion

Final Battle:
Cocaine - Eric Clapton

Death Scene:
I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love - Chicago

Funeral Song:
Wishin' and Hopin' - Ani DiFranco

End Credits:
Beautiful - Carole King

Just wrong

I am sorry, but this is so fucking wrong it makes my teeth bleed. And while we're speaking of stupid and ridiculous things, take a look at this.

Yep, I am royally pissed off at social services/DCF/CPS (whatever you want to call those twits) that have been harassing us for the last year.

Let's get things straight here: I think these people are idiots. They did not do their job in the beginning. If they had they would have recognized that there was no problem in my household other than living next door to a skanky bitch and her fat-ass husband who made a bogus call to DCF because they were pissed off at us. The only reason DCF continued after us is because B told them to fuck off and I (shall we say) let it be known that I questioned both their intellect and their investigative skills.

I feel another rant coming on.

Small Victories

When you are a parent, you start celebrating things you never in your wildest dreams believed you would.

"My son said 'wagaga'! Can you believe it?"

Today I celebrate my son's small victory.

He went poopy in the toilet and wiped his own butt.

I am a happy woman.

Funny news of the Day

Holy, creepy corpse, Batman! This guy is channelling Norman Bates.

...and I though I was lazy...

Swimming

I don't have too many good things to say about living in Florida (another post I am working on) but there is one thing...

Not far from us there is an indoor Olympic-size swimming pool that is open seven days a week and best of all...it is FREE.

Yes. Absolutely, completely free for everyone. E took swimming lessons there earlier this year (not free, but not too expenaive either). We like to use the outdoor pools and we love to go to the ocean, but when it is 99 degrees outside, and it is 3 in the afternoon, an indoor pool is perfect for us blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pasty-faced-type people.

E has become very comfortable in the water now. He doesn't mind putting his face in the water, holding his breath and laying flat out or completely dunking himself and trying to sit on the bottom. And just this past week he has started swimming.

Really swimming.

I am so proud.


E Swimming from itsjustme and Vimeo.

Rest in Peace, little Micki

Micki died on Saturday morning. I am incredibly sad about it. We only had her 5 days and I already was so attached to her. It is amazing how quickly animals can steal your heart.

She seemed so much better but then on Thursday seemed to take a turn for the worst. She was very listless on Friday. Then on Saturday morning B came into the bedroom saying, "Micki is cold!" She was still alive then. We tried to get her warm. I put some of the vitamin mixture into her mouth and some water. She licked my hand.

B drove to the emergency pet clinic while I held her little body against me, petting her and talking to her. Partway there I said to B, "I can't tell if she is breathing anymore!"

B rushed her into the clinic and they took her to the back. They said she arrived deceased.

Poor little thing. She had such a hard life. I take some comfort that at least for her last week she had a good place to sleep, clean water and good food. And love. And kindness.

I am crying again. Poor little girl.

Micki

Since we found her in a McDonald's parking lot, we are going to call her Micki.

Mommy, can we keep it?

We saved a life this weekend.

On Sunday we were out for the day and stopped at a McDonald's restaurant to get a bite to eat when we witnessed a near-accident. A little white puppy was nearly run over by a truck. B quickly parked the car and ran over to find the little dog who had staggered under a nearby car.

What he found a tiny little emaciated puppy. The poor little thing is so thin you can count every rib and every vertebrae in her back. Her little hipbones stick out and she can barely walk she is so weak. With a heat index of over 100 she probably would not have lived until the end of the day.

B picked it up and brought her to me. We took her into the restaurant and told the people behind the counter that we found her in their parking lot. They gave us a bottle of milk and a hamburger patty.

We got back into our car and I offered some milk to her. She didn't drink any so I dipped a napkin in the milk and put it in her mouth. She sucked it up and then she started lapping the milk. After she finished that I fed her the hamburger patty in tiny little pieces. Meanwhile B got a vet's office on the phone. They said that it is a good sign that she is eating and we could bring her in if we wanted or take her to our own vet in the morning.

After eating she slept the rest of the afternoon either on my lap or on E's.

On the way home we stopped at the store and bought some puppy food and flea shampoo. She was absolutely infested with fleas and we gave her a bath in the driveway, picking dozens of fleas from her little body while she mewled piteously.

She is young, still with her little needle-sharp puppy teeth. I think she is some kind of Chihuahua or maybe a Chihuahua mix of some kind.

I cannot understand how someone could treat a little puppy like this. She has obviously not eaten in weeks and I don't see how such a tiny dog could last long on the streets, especially with temperatures in the 90s like they have been. Though if people can put babies in dumpsters I guess I shouldn't be surprised that someone could mistreat a puppy. But it just breaks my heart. Even with so much misery in her young life, she is still a sweet little thing who will come to you and rest her head on your hand and lick your fingers.

It looks like we've got ourselves a pursedog.

More like Paris every day, I guess.

Compliments are Power

I read this someplace else a few weeks ago and then forgot to post about it. Then I read it again today on The Dilbert blog and it got me thinking again.

It really is true. When I was learning to be a scuba instructor we were taught to tell the students something positive as soon as they exited the water. It could be anything, what you said didn't matter, but the first thing you should say is something to make your students feel good about themselves.

No matter how bad a day you have had you will feel better if someone says something nice to you.

If it takes too long for your hamburger at lunch, don't yell at the waitperson, say they look nice or they are very cheerful. I guarantee you will get better service. At a drive-up window say something nice to the person handing you your lunch,your change, your receipt. It will make them smile. You will too.

This is really a win-win scenario. Not only will you lift up someone else it will leave you feeling better too.

Try it. It really works.

Happy 4th of July

My sweet son wishes everyone a happy Fourth of July:





E on the 4th of July from itsjustme and Vimeo.

Waiting for Godot...

Reading Julie's post re: getting to donor egg made me think about our own journey. B & I were married in 1993 and stopped using BC in 1995. I saw my first specialist in 1996. Unfortunately we did not aggresively seek treatment as life issues got in the way (not my issues but peripherally affected me so I will not discuss them in this forum...suffice it to say nasty business...lost lots of $$$ and time).

Began to actively try again in 1998. I went first to the Doctor Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken In My Presence. Now I suppose Dr. WNSNBSIMP is a competent enough doctor. He diagnosed my horrible horrible horrible periods and took out the Dermoid Cyst that made me writhe on the floor in agony so I suppose he has that going for him...but his bedside manner. No.

Let me take a moment and say I had the worst migraine headaches you can imagine. No, don't tell me how bad yours were; you weren't in my head and I am not in yours so I will not make statements about how my headache could beat your headache and send it flying to the curb. I will not go there. They came complete with a Full Complement of Migraine Symptoms.

1. Severe, horrible throbbing pain over my right temple. Only the right one. Grab my head, wrench it off and replace it with Barbie's plastic head. Please.
2. Nausea - yup - many times had to pull off the road to throw up because of the nausea...and I didn't even get to have the fun of getting sloppy drunk and thrown out of the club.
3. Sensitivity to smells - oh, god. I love coffee; I love food, I love the smell of food. But when Mygraine came to visit. No. No coffee. No cologne. No. Nothing with any smell at all.
4. Sensitivity to light - lock me in a cave and roll a boulder in front of the door and I, too will rise in 3 (or maybe 4) days.
5. Sensitivity to noises - be vewwy vewwy qwiet...

And add to the Mygraine my horrible cramps as Dermoid was growing to encompass my abdomen. Laying on a bathroom floor at work because I didn't have the strength to walk out to the car.

Why didn't you go to a doctor, you idiot? Okay I was stupid. I had some really bad medical advice previously and I believed them moron that I am. Doctors tried prescribing things for my headaches for years, but nothing worked. One (idiot) nurse told me that her headaches cleared up when she went through menopause. Who says that to a 30-year old? Bitch.

Anyway, Dr. WNSNBSIMP delivered a by now tennis ball-sized Demoid in July 1999 along with one fully-involved and now totally useless ovary. Hey, I wasn't using it anyway. I asked him about having children. He said:

"You will never have children."

That's it. Nothing else. No hope at all.

I cried.

...to be continued...

Lordy How Things Can Change...

What we did on Saturday:

What we did on Sunday:

She's out!!

Paris Hilton has vowed that she will "no longer act dumb" because because that’s "not who I am." She says she’s worried about all the young girls who view her as a role model.

Ummm...'view her as a role model???' A role model? You've gotta be kidding. Oprah Winfrey is a role model. Grace Hopper is a role model. Condoleeza Rice and Sally Ride are role models.

Paris Hilton? So not a role model. She never finished high school. College? Yeah, right. She has no job skills; the only job she held for more than a year was a TV show where she acted stupid and stuck up. She gets arrested for driving drunk. Then she gets stopped twice for driving with a suspended license and spends 23 days in jail.

If your daughter is using her for a role model then she needs a serious walloping up the side of the head. And you probably need one too.

Andrew Carnegie was once asked what was the easiest way to become rich. He said 'Pick your parents wisely.'

Okay. That was one thing that Paris did correctly.